“Yes, it would have been better,” admitted the other; “but no use crying over spilt milk, Josh. We must figure out how we can give them the slip; and I think I see a good chance right now.”
“Then tell me, because I want to know,” pleaded the other, eagerly.
“They’re hiding behind that pile of old ties,” said Jack; “and if we kept straight on as we expected to do we’d strike the railroad track just about there.”
“But now you won’t, will you, Jack?”
“We’ll walk on a few steps, as though we hadn’t changed our minds a bit,” Jack told him. “But as soon as we strike where the bank hides us from their eyes we’ll turn sharply to the right, and scuttle along as fast as we can make it. By the time we have to show up again we’ll have put some little distance between the men and ourselves; and then we’ll make a push for it as fast as our legs will carry us.”
“Bully idea, Jack; and it’s just bound to work too; only I do wish you’d gone and let me lug that gun along. Oh! what wouldn’t I give right now for a chance to fill the legs of the slick yeggs full of bird shot!”
Josh was hurrying after his chum while talking in this strain. Upon arriving at the spot where, as Jack had said, they would no longer have the friendly shelter of the bank, the two lads suddenly started off on a full run, heading direct for the town close at hand; indeed, already they were among the scattering outlying houses of the same.
A loud series of hoarse shouts from down the track told that the pair of yeggmen had caught sight of them.
Josh, casting one fearful glance over his shoulder, discovered them in full pursuit.
He even bent down and snatched up an occasional piece of rock or scrap iron, as though determined to fight to the last in case of being overtaken.